Little Boy Carl
by Darkerhue
Summary: When Sebastian Moran meets a bloody and muddy mess named Jim, he agrees to help teach the bully a lesson.  Carl Powers should have never laughed at them. Who knew two primary school children could be so dark? -Prompt from Tumblr, please R&R- T for death


Wow, as of right now, there have been almost 100 hits, 2 reviews, one favourite, and one alert on _The Silence_ (even though it's a oneshot :P )! Thank you so much! I'm not the best at dialogue, it's much easier for me to describe things, places, people, what have you, but I tried very hard to put more of it in this one. In relation to _The Silence_, this is AU with the basic Moran family element still in place. The only difference is when Jim and Seb meet, which I suppose you _could_ make work within _The Silence_.

This was another prompt from tumblr, where the first 5.3 paragraphs (I'm counting every hit of the enter key the start of a paragraph) were provided with some basic details, which I then edited and flushed out to better fit how I write. Please R&R, it makes me giggle like Jim.

_**Little Boy Carl**_

He opened his eyes and looked at the grey clouds above; rain drops hitting his face as he lay in the mud. The water, dirtied from its travel to the earth, mixed with the blood trickling down the corner of his mouth. He closed his eyes again and concentrated on his broken nose and the pin pricks of rain on his quickly swelling eyelids. Just as he started to feel a laugh coming on, the rain stopped. Slowly, he looked up and locked on pale blue-grey eyes. It was one of the boys in his class, the quiet one.

'What do you want?' He drawled, not caring for the scrutinizing gaze he was receiving.

'Why don't you fight back? Do you like getting beat up or something?' The boy looked back at the retreating form of Carl, the emotion on the boy's face unknown to him.

'Why would I want to do that? It's _wrong_.' He used the innocent voice, the one adults liked. He knew there was something different about him; that the other children understood how to react better than he did. The quiet boy gave him a look, like he knew the boy lying in the mud was acting a part. Aah, that's what the unknown emotion was. This other boy understood the physical pain he was in and the emotions he _should_ be feeling. 'I'll get him back, at the right time. When he can be hurt the most.' An evil grin played across his young face. 'Want to help?'

The blond boy shrugged, holding his hand out to help him up. 'Sure, he's picked on me before. I'm Sebastian.'

'Jim. Jim Moriarty. Hi.' He stood, wiping mud off the back of his worn jeans. They walked for a while, moving towards the general area of the back entrance to the primary school and avoiding their peers' little play groups. Jim's face was blank as he looked around. He studied the other children, cataloguing facial expressions and reactions. They stopped when the fence surrounding the play area made a 90 degree turn back towards the building. Jim spun around and studied Sebastian. He could make out telltale signs of abuse; little circular scars made by cigarettes, crooks in his nose, the fading signs of a bruise on his left cheekbone. Sebastian was holding his right arm oddly. The trapezius muscle was too tight, causing his shoulder to be held in a strange position. It was unconscious, judging by the absent minded way he shifted his weight to the other leg in an attempt to somehow move further away from the pain. The injury was healing slowly.

'You're quite, Seb. Not like the other children. You're different. Like me.' Sebastian hummed in reply, glancing sideways at Jim. 'You're smarter than them. That's good. I think we can help each other.'

'What are we going to do about Carl?' To the point and anxious to teach their bully a lesson … Jim liked his new companion.

'Oh, I have ideas. Did you know that severe eczema can cause wounds?' He grinned a little as his eyes moved to a secret faraway place in his mind. A high pitched giggle bubbled out of him. 'Little cuts can be dangerous, Seb. Lots of things can get in there.'

It took him days of digging in the library to find the information he needed. In those ten days of climbing on stools and shelves, Carl Powers had called Jim a freak, idiot, and a fag. He had pushed Jim into mud and dirt and a thistle bush in a nearby park. Each insult drove Jim to look harder, learn more about eczema and its various treatments, and find ways to take appropriate action against his tormenter. Sebastian didn't fair much better. His newfound association with 'Freakarty' meant Carl was now calling _him_ a fag. _He_ was now being pushed into the thistle bush alongside Jim, the needles finding every hidden crease in their skin.

'Today, Seb. We'll do it today.' Jim said over and over, day after day. His voice would lower a small amount each time, a feral gleam clouding his dark eyes.

'No, Jim. We'll get caught if we do it like that.' He would glare at Sebastian then, hating that the other boy was right. He knew he couldn't push Carl down the stairs; the adults were too smart to not see all the small signs of a hard shove. He couldn't take a rock to his head. He had to wait, endure the humiliation, and find the perfect weapon.

'It's like God wanted me to find it, Seb! If there is a God.' He said one day in a harsh whisper, his eyes bright with excitement. 'Carl _laughed_ at me. _He_ laughed at _me_. He won't be laughing soon.' He slammed a thick medical book on the ground between them. Carl's biggest mistake happened on the worst day possible; the day Jim stumbled across a text on bacterium as wide as the boy's body and twice again as thick. 'Dirt is _dangerous_. It's _deadly_.'

'What do you mean? Dirt is dirt.'

'No, no,' He giggled in deadly glee. 'Dirt comes from everywhere. It's always here. Sometimes, things can _grow_ in dirt.' He pointed to an entry toward the beginning of the text. Clostridium Botulinum.

He had Sebastian break into Carl's locker during the midmorning break, a bag of dirt from the shore tucked safely in his front pocket. It was a disgusting little cubby. Worksheets were shoved in the bottom and three day old mouldy cheese sat on the top shelf. He found the little tube of ointment in a front pocket of Carl's backpack. Making sure he didn't have any cuts, because Jim made it very clear that he shouldn't let this dirt touch any kind of scrape, Sebastian opened the baggie and shoved some dirt past the small opening into the tube. Whatever happened when Carl put it on his cracked feet would happen nearly an hour and half north of where Jim and Sebastian should be. No one would think twice about the two boys Carl had bullied. It would just be 'an unfortunate accident', as Jim put it. He twisted the cap back on and closed the locker, barely leaving a trace of his sabotage. He walked outside and found Jim in the dirt again.

'Good boy, Seb!' He said, stumbling to his feet as the cut on his head started to seal with gelled blood.

They sat in the balcony of the pool, watching the young swimmers warm up for the competition. Sebastian leaned back in the hard plastic chair, scowling with displeasure at how ungodly _uncomfortable_ it was. He scooted his butt forward, sinking lower into the seat.

'Why are we here, Jim? Father'll beat me when I get back.'

Jim didn't respond, content to smile like a mental person. He swayed back and forth, bright, excited eyes locked on the figure of Carl below.

'Tiiick tooock, goooes the clooock, ba daa da, daa da, da. da.' He half sang. The strangely haunting melody and manic look in his eyes caused goose pimples to erupt across Sebastian's arms and legs.

'Jim…'

'Ssh, it's about to start!' He said the last word in a sing-song voice. 'You took his shoes, right?'

'For the tenth time, yes, Jim.' Sebastian sighed. If Carl's shoes were ever examined, the police would know exactly what happened to him, and that meant that Sebastian and Jim could be found out. He started when Jim lunged toward the safety rail, snapping his short arm out to catch the back of his jumper.

'Watch him, Seb. His clock is about. To. Stop!' Again, the creepy sing-song returned to Jim's young voice. He giggled when Carl's eyes widened as he realized he couldn't breathe properly. He floundered for a few minutes, the adults thinking he was playing around to get a rise out of them, before the lack of oxygen and abundance toxin stole the strength from his arms and legs. Jim's grin widened to the point that Sebastian was surprised he didn't start bleeding. Carl was under the water now, breathing death into his lungs. Sebastian couldn't help but feel satisfied as adults rushed to drag the body out, desperately shoving against his chest and breathing into his mouth. He imagined what his father would look like if he were cold and hard as stone. A grin slowly split across his face as he pictured those cruel eyes clouding over.

Jim watched the emotion run across his partner's face from the corner of his eye and was pleased with what he saw. Turning, he took Sebastian's hand and skipped down the walk-way towards the stairs. 'Tick tock, went the clock, for Little Boy Car. El.' He sang as they walked out the back entrance.

They were Jim Moriarty and Sebastian Moran, and it was the start of a beautiful relationship.


End file.
